


when i look into your eyes (i see the blue and green like christmas lights)

by LizMikaelson, saltziepark



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Fix-It, Mistletoe, dumb gays being oblivious, happiness and christmas spirit, so much better than the actual episode i promise, we watched 208 TWICE for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22052335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizMikaelson/pseuds/LizMikaelson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltziepark/pseuds/saltziepark
Summary: hope mikaelson hates christmas. she hates the christmas spirit, she hates the singing, the cheer, the painful memories and she hates the fact that her crush on lizzie saltzman is painfully hard to ignore.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman, Penelope Park/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 8
Kudos: 213





	when i look into your eyes (i see the blue and green like christmas lights)

Hope hates Christmas. It reminds her of those she had lost, those that she would never see again. And to make matters worse, it’s fucking October. It is firmly fall and nowhere near approaching winter in Mystic Falls, and yet, snow is falling, the smell of hot chocolate and peppermint is filling the hallways, and carols are drifting through the walls, sung by the apathetic witches that used to trail after Penelope as if she was their lord and savior. It’s weird, very, very weird and Hope is miserable, very miserable. 

Nothing could explain this sudden avalanche of holiday cheer but a monster from Malivore intent on wreaking havoc. 

And only Hope seems to be immune to the cheer. 

Perhaps her Grinch-like attitude and hatred of all things jolly is finally coming in handy.

Or perhaps she’s some kind of mystical loophole again. That should be fun. 

Her notebook is littered with ideas of who the monster could be - everyone from Frosty to the abominable snowman are suspects, but so far, the only effects from the nefarious creature have been a blanket of mirth and christmas cheer spreading across the school. It’s still enough to make Hope want to fah la la lacerate anyone in her way.

All around her, classes seem to have been forgotten in lieu of decorating the school. Josie seems drunk on Christmas cheer as she hangs lights with Pedro, who’s sitting on Kaleb’s shoulders. Her happiness has to be artificial, Hope reasons, even with the rekindling of her relationship with Penelope who’s watching Josie with heavy-lidded eyes while decorating cookies in the corner. Hope watches Josie blow Penelope a kiss, the witch’s smile larger than anything Hope has ever seen, so yeah, that has to be fake. 

Only one person seems to be missing and Hope knows that she would never turn down an opportunity to party plan.  _ Lizzie _ . The name drops in Hope’s mind and her legs go weak. 

She ignores the butterflies in her stomach as she bounds up the stairs, combat boots echoing loudly or maybe that is just her heart hammering as she draws closer to the twin’s room.

She ignores the warmth spreading through her at the thought of Lizzie and the time spent with her recently. 

Ignores the memory of Lizzie in her arms as they danced the night away at the Decades Dance. 

Ignores the way she had been too afraid to voice her thoughts, pinning everything on Landon and her desire to keep him safe and win him back, which fell flat on her own ears. Her smile had been too tight, her heart beating loudly when all Hope had wanted to do was say, “it’s you, it’s been you.” 

Her useless, stupid, completely pointless and soul- crushing crush on the blonde Saltzman had reared it’s head at the most inopportune times and overtaken her all to entirely and suddenly. 

She still has no real idea how this happened, when this began, when suddenly everything became Lizzie. 

Lizzie, standing above the minotaur, a victorious smile on her face. 

Lizzie in her arms, the words “I’m glad you’re back,” falling from her lips. 

Lizzie, under a table, teasing her for flirting with the muggle when the only person Hope wants to flirt with anymore is her. 

Lizzie, defiant and beautiful, as they were exchanging secrets in the gym, barely concealing her anger and perhaps jealousy at the news of Hope’s ages old crush on Josie. And ever since then, Hope can’t stop wondering if it had been the twins’ usually jealousy or something more, if maybe Lizzie felt - 

She bursts through the door and Lizzie is in bed, her hair tousled and she really shouldn’t be that gorgeous in an oversized shirt. The blonde doesn’t bother sitting up in bed as Hope breathes, “Lizzie,” her voice entirely too high as it’s knocked out of her at the sight of the blonde unaffected by the holiday spirit. 

Lizzie sits up now, if only for a moment before laying back down. 

“We get it, Hope. You’re back. Now disappear,” Lizzie mumbles, pulling the comforter higher over her head as she shifted under the covers. 

She really shouldn’t be smiling that widely after being so coldly dismissed by Lizzie but Hope wanted to wrap her arms around Lizzie and kiss her senseless at her decidedly not-jolly mood. It’s not like she wants to kiss Lizzie for other reasons. 

“You’re still a bitch, thank god.” Hope opts for a hug instead, rushing to the bed and she feels herself sink into it more than she should and tries to pull away quickly, but the confusion is written plainly across Lizzie’s face. 

“Wait, what?” Lizzie groans into her ear and Hope lets go of her, pulling one leg up and facing the blonde as she sits in the comforter. She tries not to think about Lizzie in bed, herself in bed with Lizzie.  _ Focus, Hope.  _

“What is happening?” 

“I don’t know - it’s like everyone in the school is happy,” she pauses, as Lizzie blinks away questions in an attempt to wake up and Hope really should have brought her a coffee after dropping this bomb on her. 

“Too happy. Like scary happy. Merry, even,” Hope elaborates, praying that her line of reasoning is leading Lizzie to the same conclusion she had. 

“They all think that it’s Christmas. And the snow probably doesn’t help.”

Lizzie looks out the window over her shoulder, the frosted glass shining and the tree boughs heavy with what could only be snow. Hope watches her hurry over to the window, gaze outside at the falling flakes. “It’s snowing,” she exclaims, “how?”

Hope shrugs, watching Lizzie unabashedly, free from scrutiny, savoring this small moment to take her in, pajamas and all. Can’t quite help but imagine an alternative world, free of monsters, and demons, with Lizzie standing here, gazing at the snow. 

A world where it isn’t snowing in October. But that’s not the world they live in. 

“Uhhhh, another monster, I’m guessing?”

“This is...terrible news. It’s freaking fall! Not winter. What am I gonna wear?!” Lizzie rushes away from the window and towards her closet, pulling out a myriad of sweaters and scarves. 

Uh oh, Hope should have accounted for Lizzie’s preoccupation with fashion rather than the creature that could very well be descending upon them as they spoke, but thankfully she is saved a full meltdown over the pros and cons of down jackets versus peacoats when a singsong voice causes them both to turn in panic.

In the doorway, Josie appears, donning a white sweater with red plaid skirt and carrying what looks like an entirely overladen platter of cookies. Hope can smell gingerbread and sugar cookies and feels her mouth water at the sight of the perfect icing and  _ no _ , cookies were not going to be her downfall. 

And did she always smell like pine trees and cinnamon or was that the demon too? 

“HO, HO HO,” she sings, her smile a mile wide and saccharine and far, far too forced. 

“I come bearing gifts,” she pauses, lips downturning but the smile still sparkles. “Well, more like a peace offering, really.” 

“I thought that the three of us had already made peace,” Lizzie begins, sparing a confused look at Hope as she returns to the bed, perching down on the corner. 

“Well, this whole school year, I have been really naughty.” 

Naughty? Lizzie wants to gag at that. Josie never said naughty and even if she did, Lizzie certainly didn’t want to know whom it had been directed, because Penelope, despite getting back together with Josie, was still the mistress of satan. She scoots back on the bed, away from this jolly and frankly weird mood, consciously or unconsciously backing up into Hope. 

Stepford!Josie shows no sign of stopping as she continues, oblivious to Lizzie’s revulsion at her words and Hope’s decidedly increased heart rate at her proximity to the blonde siphon. 

“I've not been the supportive sister that I want to be. And then there’s Landon.” Oh shit, Hope had forgotten about him in all of this mess, but saving the school was more important. Saving all of them was more important. 

“It was wrong of me to be jealous when his subconscious just chose you. But thankfully, Christmas is all about forgiveness, right? Cookie?”

“Run,” Hope hisses, ignoring, ignoring, ignoring, the way Lizzie’s body is half-pressed into hers, how tantalizingly close she is. 

She wants to reach out, squeeze Lizzie’s fingers before she goes and nearly does, her breath catching in her throat. Lizzie seems to linger for a moment, eyes locked on Hope’s and had they always sparkled like that or was it just a trick of the light? 

Lizzie smiles, bends to kiss Hope’s cheek, but no, that’s not right. She bends her head to whisper in Hope’s ear, her warm breath tickling Hope and she inhales a sharp breath. 

“Meet me downstairs?” Lizzie whispers, a confident smile breaking out across her face as her eyes twinkle. 

And as Lizzie disappears, Hope focuses on Josie. “What kind of cookie?”

Lizzie is biting her lip, pacing in place with her arms crossed when Hope finds her. 

“So, I’m gonna need you to go talk to our other resident mudman,” Hope begins, tempted to reach out to stop Lizzie in her pacing. Thinking about Clarke was enough to make Hope’s skin crawl and Lizzie could read the disgust plain across her face. 

“We need to figure out if he knows anything about what’s going on. Anything that can help us. Please, Lizzie,” Hope’s voice rises and Lizzie clenches her jaw and nods.

If she was being honest with herself, and she almost never was when it came to Hope, there wasn’t anything in this world she wouldn’t do for the tribrid. But Hope didn’t need to know that. Now or ever, thank you very much. 

“Fine, if I must.” Lizzie feigns annoyance but Hope’s face lights up. “I’m gonna do some research. Find me later?” 

She’s perched over a desk in the living room, her pencil broken and her temper at its boiling point after she had threatened bodily harm to Penelope’s acolytes. It’s too loud and there is far too much joy for her to focus.

Kaleb is by her side a moment later, drinking eggnog out of the ladle from a giant bowl and ew, this creature really had a sick sense of humor because eggnog was one thing but gallons of eggnog was entirely different. 

She gets up, thinks for a moment about throwing the desk over in anger, but instead relents. She watches the celebration around her and dislikes it immensely, but she plasters her best fake smile on as she tries to appease Kaleb by pretending to drink some of the white liquid.

Everyone seemed to be intent on spreading the cheer and she was no closer to finding out what the hell was going on. And Lizzie had been gone for far too long, the thought making Hope’s hands tingle in fear, but the blonde siphon could hold her own, even against Clarke. She was stronger than any of them realized.

“It’s a Krampus,” Lizzie announces, appearing behind her at long last, perching her chin on Hope’s shoulder and god, she’s close, and her voice, inches away from Hope’s earlobe, is sending shivers down her spine. 

“A Krampus?” Hope questions. 

“He punishes children on the naughty list,” Lizzie says, and her hand is still on Hope’s waist, and she’s really, really, trying to listen to the words coming out of Lizzie’s mouth and not on the shape of her lips as she talks.

Hope’s fingers burn from where she yearns to reach out to Lizzie, to place her hand over Lizzie’s at her waist. The blonde is far too close now but the space between them is still far too great. Hope’s vision swimming as she thinks of blonde curls, porcelain skin, legs for days underneath a skirt. Lizzie brings color to her world but her vision is darkening.

If Hope turned her head just a bit more to the side, they would be breathing the same air. The realization makes her heart rate accelerate and her palms sweat and she nods quickly, completely missing half of what Lizzie was saying. 

Something about the demon Santa, probably. 

“Creepy fucker. Anyway, he must have found some way to put everyone under some weird Christmas spell.”

Around them, the party is still in full swing, and distracted by Lizzie, it takes her a moment to realize that Clarke is standing next to the fire. “Did you let him out?”

Lizzie sighs, “He wanted to talk to you.”

Clarke throws a piece of paper into the fire, and Hope rushes over just as it goes up in flames, Lizzie at her heels. “What did you wish for?” she questions. 

He smirks at her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Lizzie’s hand is at his shoulder a moment later. “Are you still going to be this confident when I’ve siphoned your entire life force away?”

“I found another loophole,” he says, throwing a “you should be proud,” in Hope’s direction. 

She locks eyes with Lizzie, silently, and thirty seconds later they’re in the hidden gallery away from the hall, Hope shoving Clarke across the room. “What - exactly- did you wish for?”

It takes another spell, then another, and an additional threat thrown in from Lizzie before he finally admits to what’s going on. 

“A Savior,” he blurts out, “I wished for a savior.” His hands are above his head to shield him from additional spells and Hope merely rolls her eyes at him. Men, she thinks with disgust. 

Lizzie presses her hand to her forehead, more than a little exasperated. “So, you’re basically saying that you wished for the Krampus to come here.”

“Does that mean we need to get everyone out of the Christmas spirit?” Hope chances. 

“And stab him in the heart,” Lizzie confirms, as they leave the gallery and hurry back into the main room. Clarke follows them quickly, but a look from Lizzie silences any protest on his lips. 

“Attention,” Hope calls out, silencing the room. “There is a Krampus on it’s way and we need to defend ourselves.” For a moment, the quiet lingers, and then the room is abuzz with chatter and laughter and music, once more. 

Temptation rushes in, to finally, finally rid herself of the painful memories that linger around this time of the year, rid herself of all the things that are no longer hers. 

She raises her hand, blasts the gramophone and then the fairly lights, sweeping her arm around before the food flies into the air, and at long last, the ridiculous Christmas spirit dissipates in a barrage of sweets and shrapnel of candy canes. 

Pedro rushes past her, devastation apparent in his face, and next to her, Lizzie drops down to the ground, scooping him up in her arms, and sending Hope a glare that is a lot scarier than any of the monsters they’ve ever faced. 

“Let’s defeat the Krampus first, little man, and then we’ll all get into the proper Christmas spirit.”

“It’s October,” Hope mutters, under her breath. 

“Don’t make me hex you,” Lizzie threatens, as she turns towards Hope, Pedro in her arms with a thousand-watt smile and honestly, Hope really couldn’t compete with that sight. 

The image of Lizzie with Pedro makes Hope’s stomach drop in an unfamiliar way and her heart aches for  _ something more _ . A future and a child with blonde hair and blue eyes and a life safe from all of this. But they had to get out of this mess first. 

At the other end of the room, Alaric is shrugging out of his sweater, giving out orders as he rolls up his sleeves. 

Penelope and Josie are herding the students together, getting them ready to fight and Kaleb leaves to gather weapons from Alaric’s armory. 

Alaric grabs his trusty crossbow and they turn off all of the lights in the living room, the students armed with sharpened stakes. It was only a matter of time before Clarke’s message found its way to the Krampus, before he came barreling into the school. 

They wait in the darkness and Lizzie is again behind Hope. She can feel the anxiety rushing off of the blonde and needs to reach out, needs to tell her that it will be okay, but before she can do anything, the ash from the now-extinguished fire blasts out of the fireplace, followed by curls and wisps of smoke, slowly materialising into a green-skinned disgrace, dressed in a rogue Santa coat. 

That image should be enough to get rid of the remaining Christmas spirit, Hope thinks. 

The room, which had been darkened in anticipation for him, lights up brilliantly and they all step forward, the gramophone playing Ella Fitzgerald’s melodic voice. Josie sees Pedro at the front of a line of students, armed with sharpened candy canes and she pushes him behind two older girls, taking the weapon from him and steadying herself with a deep breath. 

Clarke is right in front of the fireplace, more than obviously still hoping for his saviour. “Merry Christmas, Krampus,” he says, “I believe you have something for me.” 

And Hope can’t help the sting of pity that passes through her at the hopeful tone of his voice. Monsters have never brought anyone salvation. 

The Krampus crouches down, towards the bag he brought, pulling out a scythe and storming towards Clark. Seconds later, there is a bloody wound across Clark’s arm and he’s standing there, clutching it, obviously more than a little shocked. 

The Krampus’ tongue extends, wrapping around Clarke’s neck, and that’s disgusting, honestly, and Hope doesn’t particularly mind seeing Clarke suffer, but she also isn’t about to watch the Krampus kill him.

“I’m Hope,” she says, strolling towards them, “and I find the holidays to be really stressful.” She throws the knife she’s taken to carrying, cutting through that disgusting tongue and with a raise of her hand, the Krampus is catapulted against the fireplace, crumbling onto the ground. 

But seconds later he’s primed to attack again, throws his hands out wildly. Kaleb speeds through the room, binding the green figure with a garland of fairy lights as Alaric levels his crossbow, an arrow through the Krampus’ heart that they think has stopped the creature. 

“And that’s how you kill a Krampus,” Alaric announces victoriously as Dorian offers him another cup of eggnog. 

“If he’s dead,” Hope questions, cautiously observing the room, “then why are you two still merry?”

The Krampus proves her right seconds later by dragging himself to his feet again, breaking the shaft of the arrow with a sadistic smile on his face. Lizzie and Josie step forward next to her, and Hope holds out her hands. They join hands, the twins growing stronger from the tribrid. 

Hope hits him again and again with spells, knocking him unconscious and off of his feet. Lizzie and Joise join in and Hope is primed and ready to blast him again, drive the arrowhead deeper into his too-small heart, when Santa appears, wiggling out of the unattended sack the Krampus left on the ground. 

And he’s certainly more jolly than the entire day put together, far too familiar with all of them and all to ready to dole out opinions. 

“HO HO HO what do we have here?” Santa bellows as everyone around them grins. Hope can’t help but feel a smile come to her face, unbidden. 

“Santa. I can’t believe you’re real.”

“Of course you can, Ms. Mikaelson. Only the belief something real could have brought me here, after all.”

“How do you know her name?” Alaric blurts out. 

“Because everyone was a child once,” Santa explains, “and I remember each and everyone of you. Besides, Alaric is a hard name to forget.”

Hope feels a little faint with disbelief, but she can’t help the feeling of joy spreading through her at the sight of Santa, something good, something real, something untarnished. 

“I’d like to thank you all,” he says, “for bringing me back from that horrible, awful place. For bringing me back to spread joy over the world.”

He seems a bit sappy and Hope is notoriously suspicious. “So you actually just bring children gifts and presents and spread joy?”

“I spread cheer throughout the world, and I bring the people what they want most.” He tilts his head and Hope wonders if snarking at Santa was a good idea. “Then again, Ms. Mikaelson, what you want most is already standing right next to you.”

It definitely wasn’t, though she can’t help but feel a tang of admiration at his brazenness in calling her out like this. Still, she silently prays that the assortment of the room has suddenly changed. 

But it hasn’t. 

Josie moved backwards, towards Penelope, as soon as Santa appeared. And so there’s definitely no one but Lizzie Saltzman standing next to her, their hands still intertwined, her gaze focused entirely on Hope. 

Hope looks away as fast as she can, silently grateful that Krampus has suddenly shown up again at the other end of the room. But as she makes her way towards it, Lizzie’s hand around her wrist stops her. “Not so fast, Mikaelson.”

“I have to agree, Miss Mikaelson,” Santa says. “This fight is mine.”

Hope watches him storm towards the green figure, and hesitantly turns back towards Lizzie. Lizzie, who looks confused, and a little pale, and isn’t saying a word, and who could have anyone in this school, and who wants Sebastian, or Rafael, and most certainly not Hope. And at the very least, Hope needs to salvage the remains of their fragile friendship. 

“Look, we can just ignore what Santa said about the gift that I want most this Christmas being you,” Hope says quickly, if only to pull the bandage off fast and get this conversation over sooner rather than later. 

Lizzie says nothing, her heart in her chest. Hope just stares at her, the hurt plain across her face, as the room descends into chaos around them.

“You don’t have to say anything, Lizzie, because it is becoming increasingly clear that you really don’t feel anything for me, which is f-“ Lizzie stops her rant with a kiss, right in the middle of the fight as candy canes and cakes and gingerbread houses explode around them in Krampus’ rage.

Santa is slithering through the room by the time they break apart, landing on the ground with a thump, and Hope feels more than a little dizzy, because Lizzie Saltzman had kissed her and everything had become clearer, sharper, brighter. 

She bends down, reaching for the scythe and tossing it across the room. 

“Santa,” he catches it with an easy movement, and he’ll be fine, she thinks, and turns back to meet Lizzie’s gaze.

“Hi,” Lizzie breathes, reaching up to pluck a stray piece of gingerbread from Hope’s hair with a softness that Hope wasn’t sure that Lizzie possessed. 

Hope is smiling at her and Lizzie grows nervous under her gaze. “Well, I had to shut you up somehow, Mikaelson,” she finally gets out, a red blush shining across her cheeks. 

This time, this night, the Christmas spirit lingers even after the Krampus has disappeared. 

And this time, Hope doesn’t mind it all that much. 

_ “There’s only one thing left to say, then,” Hope says, eyes dancing across Lizzie’s face and god, she really was the most beautiful girl that Hope had ever seen. The way her eyes sparkled in the christmas lights, the way Hope could pick out golds and browns and greens in the brilliant blue, the way her brow creased ever-so slightly when she was trying to hold back laughter.  _

_ “Look up, Lizzie,” she breathes, her breath ghosting across Lizzie’s lips as the blonde’s eyes travel up to the rafters. A small sprig of mistletoe hung, as if suspended by magic (and it probably had been). Lizzie smiles, eyes slowly moving down before Hope captures her lips in a kiss that tasted like cinnamon and felt like the first day of winter.  _

_ Josie and Penelope lurked from the doorway before they took their leave, the taller brunette grabbing Penelope’s hand to clasp her fingers, bringing them up to her lips.  _

_ “It wouldn’t be Christmas with you, you know,” she says to Penelope, whose smirk lights up her face, a loose red bow around her neck that Josie wanted to unwrap like a present.  _

_ “You know, there might be some mistletoe hanging above my doorway or even my bed….” Penelope began before Josie’s laughter broke the air. The siphon twirled Penelope in her arms before pulling her to her by the bow.  _

_ “You read my mind, Park.”  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> come say hi and scream with us about the horror show that legacies currently is on twitter. you can find us @saltziepark and @liz__mikaelson


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